an attempt at dinner
by dicaeopolis
Summary: Tsukishima Kei does not want to be hopelessly in love. Unfortunately, Hinata Shouyou has other plans.


"I'm too tall for this," Tsukishima said, looking downwards at the rat's nest of orange hair pressed up against his chest. Through his t-shirt, he felt Hinata's scowl as he tied the apron strings behind Tsukishima's back.

"You can't be too tall for an apron."

"It barely reaches past my waist, see? It's too small."

"You're too tall."

"Can't we trade? Yours is almost down to your ankles."

They traded. It was even worse.

This was not how Tsukishima Kei, stoic middle blocker, undisputed king of the resting bitchface, and closet hopeless romantic, had expected cooking dinner for his boyfriend to go.

"I told you so," sniffed the little spiker. "Ow! Owww! Mean!" He unsuccessfully attempted to wriggle away from Tsukishima's headlock and the knuckles digging into his scalp. Tsukishima retaliated by shifting his arm downwards to loop around Hinata's waist and lift him off the ground entirely, and then Hinata was squirming around in his grip to wrap his legs around Tsukishima's waist and shimmy upwards along his skyscraper of a boyfriend until he could wrap his arms around his neck and stare defiantly into his eyes. "It's not my fault you're a giraffe."

Tsukishima stared right back, brown meeting gold. "It's not my fault you're a shrimp."

Unmistakable mischief flared in Hinata's expression. "It's not my fault you think it's cute."

He couldn't hide his sharp intake of breath, and Hinata laughed wickedly. Tsukishima set him down on the counter with a bit more force than was necessary and turned away to rip open the blue box of Barilla penne and dump it into the pot of boiling water on the stove.

The vantage point pleased Hinata. He stayed where he was, swinging his legs and leaning forward slightly to watch Tsukishima starting the tomato sauce with smugness flitting around the corners of his mouth.

"You're blushing," he observed after a moment.

"I am not," Tsukishima lied.

"Your cheeks are _all red_."

"Shut up." It wasn't his _fault_ \- Hinata _was_ cute, as much as he resented himself for thinking so. Cute in the way baby animals and toddlers were cute, yes, but also cute in the way he grinned and talked with his hands and rolled the sleeves of his jacket up to his elbows and a million other things that drove Tsukishima Kei to distraction. He flushed deeper under the keen gaze.

Hinata hopped down, landing lightly on the balls of his feet, and flitted to his boyfriend's side. He picked up a can of the diced tomatoes.

"Don't."

He did.

"It's an exact match!" exclaimed Hinata, holding the can up next to Tsukishima's left ear. "Down to the specific hue!"

Tsukishima gritted his teeth and stirred the pan so hard that a couple of tomatoes flew off onto the stovetop.

He _would_ fall for one of the few people in the world who could actually get a rise out of him.

Or maybe that was exactly why he had fallen for Hinata.

As he added oregano, a pair of arms looped around his waist from behind. Tsukishima's heart fluttered embarrassingly, the traitor.

Hinata rested his forehead somewhere above the small of his back. His warm breath was high enough to be decent, low enough to be suggestive. Tsukishima barely suppressed a shiver.

" _What?_ "

"You're cute," Hinata said into the back of his shirt.

Tsukishima prayed to every god he knew that Hinata didn't hear the undignified noise in his throat. Hinata's delighted giggle told him that atheism was the way to go.

Ten minutes of Tsukishima actually cooking and Hinata bouncing around the kitchen opening and closing drawers and being generally unhelpful later, Tsukishima was spooning dinner onto two plates. Hinata was hanging annoyingly close to him, touching his arms and shoulders.

"I'm not a petting zoo," Tsukishima told him.

Hinata tilted his head, fixed him with a clear, discerning gaze. "Do you want me to stop?"

That awful blush was sneaking up his neck again. Hinata was waiting for an answer.

"...no," he mumbled, bracing himself for the snickers. Instead, Hinata leaned against Tsukishima's free arm and played with his hand. Tsukishima would've almost preferred mockery to the twisting in his chest at the feeling of Hinata's small hands, turning over and running up and down his fingers one by one..

"Here," he muttered, dropping the plate down in front of one of the place settings at the table. Hinata, following after, looked at it with surprise.

"That's a lot."

"Maybe it'll help you grow more."

Hinata squawked an indignant retort. And Tsukishima would never admit it aloud, but he'd heard Hinata's stomach growling earlier, and he knew that Hinata would be biking back over the mountain the next day, and he really did worry that Hinata always seemed to be hungry, never put on anything more than skin and bones no matter how much he ate.

Hinata dug in and went back for seconds. Afterwards, they drifted to the couch, and Tsukishima was cool and standoffish for about thirty seconds before Hinata straddled him and demanded energy with his voice and eyes and lips and hands sliding over Tsukishima's skin and despite his best efforts, Tsukishima gave it to him.

"I love you," Hinata said into his mouth at the same time that the phrase was slithering into every corner of Tsukishima's thoughts. His lips stilled, and Hinata pulled away, watching emotions flicker across Tsukishima's face.

 _You're the only one who can see emotions on my face_ , he thought.

"Y-you too," he said to Hinata, and immediately kissed him again, nervous and a little desperate.

 _You too_.


End file.
